Editor’s Note: The picture above on its right side shows three NYPD cops hoisting an American flag at the site of the collapsed buildings. THIS IS THE ORIGINAL picture from the NY FOP. The one you have been shown for years which has NY Firefighters and assorted races. It’s a fake. It was staged to be racially diverse and the flag shown in that picture had never flown over the WTC. Thank you, do-gooders – lying bastards.



 Did you ever take a good knee or kick in the balls? Just the thought of it will send most males grabbing to protect their family jewels and they will be moaning in the process. I don’t know what it compares to on the female anatomy so, I must ask you ladies to take my word for it:  It is the most excruciating pain a man (or boy) can experience. No shit.

AS I was spreading peanut butter on my toast last Saturday morning, I was witness to a number of rituals honoring those who gave their lives on September 11, 2001. Witnessing the various interviews of friends and family who were bemoaning their loss on that tragic day. And I was reliving the sense I had that day of being kicked in the nuts once again.

But, that cannot be our focus.

We must remember how Americans everywhere expressed their sincere thanks to cops everywhere for keeping them safe. No, each and every one of us didn’t take out a terrorist, personally. But for all of the goodwill coming our way, you’d thought we had.

Flags flew on nearly every house on the block.

Nearly every car displayed a flag in some manner. Many also carried the Thin Blue Line flag, as well.

It was difficult to buy your own meal if you took your break in a well-trafficked restaurant. One American would be buying your meal while another paid for dessert.

We were happy to serve and thankful for our jobs. Almost every young man was enlisting in the military or wanted to become a cop or fireman.

It was quite a time for America. You can believe it in your heart that those Americans are still here. Today, they’re just being quiet. All we hear is the loud din from a bunch of loudmouths, which reminds me of another phrase my dad frequently used around such folks: “An empty wagon makes the most noise.”

Now, twenty years later, when I think of that Tuesday morning of September 11th, 2001, I still cringe. I was at the gym, working out when I noticed that all of the folks in the cardio area had stopped moving and were just standing there staring at the TVs.

After a few minutes without anyone moving, I walked over to see what the hell was going on. I looked just as the second plane flew into the tower.

The words came immediately, “We’re at war.”

I made my way to the locker room and called my wife to tell her to turn on one of the news stations; she too was aghast. Then we heard about the Pentagon and later Shanksville, PA. Where would they strike next?

Our son was at Michigan State in East Lansing, an hour’s drive.  Our daughter was a Southern Illinois State, some seven hours away. Were they safe? How could I protect them? They probably don’t know what to do in this kind of emergency.

The whole day, I worried:  Where next?

We know now that four planes was the total number, thank God. America would recover and rebuild. WE have learned to always keep our guard up.

Protect yourself, stay safe and keep low.


 “Above all, it’s about going home at the end of the shift … “

We couldn’t agree more.



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